


Taken In

by VarjoRuusu



Category: Batman (Movies - Nolan)
Genre: And could be ignored if you like, Angst, Drama, Gen, Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort, I say most not all, Most Slash is only hinted, Pre-Relationship, Probably a whole host of other tags that may or may not turn up, Secret Identity, Secret Identity Revealed, See each story for more
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-03
Updated: 2018-08-03
Packaged: 2019-06-20 23:05:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15544164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VarjoRuusu/pseuds/VarjoRuusu
Summary: A series of oneshots revolving around Batman and/or Commissioner James Gordon.Each oneshot will have it's own rating and summery inside, some will be gen, some pre-slash, some getting together etc. T rating is for potential violence.





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a list, unofficial of course, in every office Jim Gordon has ever worked in. It's a to-do list, of sorts, things to achieve sectioned off by rank. At rookie the things are simple, like bust a perp, but it gets more complicated as the ranks rise. There's a special section for the police commissioner, which only appeared after Gordon got the job. After all, he'd crossed out everything else on the list already.
> 
> #4 was 'Get kidnapped with a masked vigilante' and #5 was 'Find out the secret identity of the Bat.'
> 
> He could have done without that 4th one, to be perfectly honest. He really could.

There's a list, unofficial of course, in every office Jim Gordon has ever worked in. It's a to-do list of sorts, things to achieve sectioned off by rank. At rookie the things are simple, like bust a perp, but it gets more complicated as the ranks rise. There's a special section for the police commissioner, which only appeared after Gordon himself got the job. After all, he'd crossed out everything else on the list already by the time he hit lieutenant.

There were five things on his own personalized list, three of which had been mysteriously crossed off by parties unknown and had included _'Bring down the maniacal purple velvet wearing, green haired lunatic.'_ aka the Joker. The last two were not things Gordon was really wanting to happen any time soon, if he was perfectly honest with himself.

#4 was _'Get kidnapped with a masked vigilante'_ and #5 was _'Find out the secret identity of the Bat.'_

He could have done without that 4th one, to be perfectly honest. He really could.

\- - -

It was dark, that was the first thing Jim noticed. His eyes were open, he could feel them fluttering and straining, but nothing was there. It was so entirely pitch black that he couldn't make out the ground less than an inch from his face.

He groaned, taking stock of his body, finding that he wasn't tied, and he didn't seem to be injured beyond a nice bump on the head. Sitting up, he felt around and encountered damp, chilly stone floor, and one wall to match, which he leaned on while he waited for his head to stop spinning.

“Who's there?” a voice growled out of the darkness and he jumped, then relaxed as the familiarity of it penetrated the haze.

“It's commissioner Gordon,” he said, rubbing his head carefully. “Are you hurt?”

Across the small room, Batman merely grunted.

“Took my armour, my mask,” he said after a while and Jim tilted his head. Well, that meant that when/if they were rescued, either his identity would be revealed, or he'd just be another kidnapped citizen. It was going to depend on the situation with whoever captured them.

“So they grabbed you as Batman, not as whoever you really are?” he asked, feeling along the wall slowly, trying to determine the diameter of the small cell.

“Don't you remember?” the dark voice asked, somewhat lighter now. He didn't seem to be putting as much effort into his growl. Jim though he smelled fresh blood.

“Got a lump on my head the size of an orange,” he shrugged. “Keep talking, I don't want to trip on you.”

“What are you doing?” Batman asked, and Jim could hear him pull his legs up carefully, making himself smaller.

“Trying to size the room,” Jim said as he managed to rise to his feet, pacing around the room slowly, counting steps.

“No windows. Probably no door. Maybe a trapdoor in the ceiling,” Batman said quietly and Jim managed to navigate around the sitting man, one hand still trailing on the wall.

By the time he finished he guessed they were in an 8 x 8 room and he couldn't reach the ceiling, so probably a cellar of some sort. He felt his way back to where the Batman was sitting and carefully felt around until his hand landed on a bare shoulder.

“I need you to tell me the truth,” he said quietly, the smell of copper thick in the air. “Are you hurt?”

There was silence for a long moment then movement under his hand. Fingers gripped his loosely and brought his hand to the other shoulder, which he could easily feel was dislocated.

“Couple of holes, too,” the other man said quietly and Jim sighed. He shuffled to the other side, carefully taking his arm and hand, bracing his other hand against the dislocated shoulder.

“Ready?”

“No,” Batman groaned, then shouted when Jim shoved his shoulder back in place, his hand tightening on Jim's forearm as every muscle in his body tensed.

Satisfied the shoulder was back where it should be, Jim trailed his fingers across the clammy chest and down, searching, until he encountered two small caliber bullet holes low on the right side. They were still bleeding sluggishly and Jim wasted no time in tugging off his jacket and shirt, wadding it up and pressing it to the wound. He shivered, his undershirt not doing much against the damp, but at least he could try and stop the bleeding. Feeling around the back he found no exit wounds, which meant it was likely the bullets were still in there.

“Figured you'd have asked who I was by now,” the Batman panted, one hand over Jim's in a feeble attempt to help hold pressure on the wounds, all traced of the put on growl now gone. All the was left was the breathy voice of a man in pain.

“Do I need to know who you are to save your life?” Jim asked and Batman chuckled.

“No...I suppose you don't. But you'll find out when they open the door,” he said quietly.

“Does it bother you?” Jim asked quietly. Below him the man sighed.

“No. Not anymore.”

“Hey...hey, stay with me,” Jim said, sensing that the other man was fading toward unconsciousness.

“Can't order me around,” he chuckled. “Not one of your cops.”

“You die on me and I will personally see to it that you're brought back to life so I can kill you myself,” Jim threatened, which drew a deep laugh from the Batman. A moment later it turned into rattling cough and Jim held him as steady as possible until it passed.

“Aren't you curious?” he asked, sighing as he leaned back against the wall. Jim probed hesitant fingers under the shirt, relieved when it seemed the bleeding had almost stopped.

“If I don't know you, I can't arrest you,” he said pointedly.

“But you already know. You just have to think about it,” came the soft voice and Jim shook his head, refusing to look closer at why he knew that voice. He didn't want to know, he really didn't.

“Jim...”

“Damn it, Bruce, just shut the hell up,” Jim snapped.

There was silence. Long, drawn out, silence. Then:

“See? I told you you already knew,” Bruce Wayne chuckled right before he passed out.

\- - -

It turned out that thanks to their rescue, Jim couldn't actually cross either numbers 4 or 5 off the list, despite having achieved both of them. Their rescuers has found no trace of the Batsuit in the building, just one slightly concussed police commissioner and one bruised and shot playboy billionaire. Apparently there had been some kind of a ransom demand and it led the cops right to them. And with everyone killed in the raid, there was no one left to tell anyone who Bruce Wayne really was.

So the list stayed, life went on, and if a shadow darkened Jim's door a little more often, if a mask came off behind the security of the closed curtains and the darkness, that was really no one's business but his own.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was cold, snow covering the city streets. It was almost Christmas, his exhausted mind told him, and Gordon sighed, closing his eyes for just a minute, leaning back against the cold brick of the alley. A tiny displacement of air is all the warning he gets and his eyes fly open, searching the darkness, every muscle in his body tense.
> 
> He didn't know what he was expecting. One of his men, one of Bane's thugs. A kid out after dark.
> 
> What he saw was the Batman, just a shadow, but Gordon would know him anywhere.
> 
> "You're here," he said quietly, suddenly relaxing completely. For just a moment everything seemed possible and it was all going to be okay.
> 
> \- - 
> 
> Set during and after The Dark Knight Rises

He's burning all over, the fire of getting shot coupled with the abuse his not-so-young-anymore body took on his trip through the waterways and out. He knows he's on pain medication but it's barely enough to even slightly dull everything threatening to drown him.

It's night, he's vaguely aware, or late evening. Dark or close enough outside, the room around him in shadows, the machines making sure he's still alive almost blindingly bright when his eyelids flutter.

There's something else, something Gordon really isn't expecting, not now, not ever again. There's a hand in his, holding tightly.

He takes a breath of oxygen rich air, becoming vaguely aware there's a mask strapped to his face. He manages to raise his free hand and tug it down, almost knowing what he's going to find when he pries his eyes open.

It's not quite what he expected. The suit is bespoke instead of black Kevlar, and the mask is a plain old run of the mill ski mask, not the familiar silhouette of pointed ears. The man is crouching instead of looming, but Gordon has no doubt, Batman is here.

"You were gone," he manages to rasp, and the hand tightens around his. "We were in this together, then you were gone."

"The Batman wasn't needed anymore," comes the reply, soft, barely a whisper and without the normal growl Gordon has come to associate with him.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, this voice is familiar, for entirely different reasons. Something, somewhere deep under the pain and the drugs, clicks into place.

"The Batman must come back," he insists. The eyes, dark brown eyes, looked away.

"What if he doesn't exist anymore?"

"He must," was all Gordon managed before the pain and exhaustion swamped him again, his vision fading. He felt the hand squeeze one more time, then darkness.

  -:-:-

Gordon's lost a lot over the years and he's knows a lot of its how's own fault. He knew when he married Barbara that a day may come when the job came first one too many times. It took years longer than he expected, his son was almost grown, going to college the next year, but he still wasn't surprised when she packed their things and left, moving in with her sister in San Francisco. He didn't blame her, nor did he resent her decision. He just kissed her on the cheek and asked that she let the kids keep in touch.

That was ten months ago and now the city was under the control of a few people with a bomb and unclear motivations for why exactly they wanted to blow up his city. Most of his police force was trapped in the sewers under the city, and what was left were fighting what amounted to a one man war on the streets, their numbers were so few.  And Batman...he was nowhere to be found. Gordon usually got through the day thanking whatever god was listening that his family was gone, safe on the other side of the country.

It was cold, snow covering the city streets. It was almost Christmas, his exhausted mind told him, and Gordon sighed, closing his eyes for just a minute, leaning back against the cold brick of the alley. A tiny displacement of air is all the warning he gets and his eyes fly open, searching the darkness, every muscle in his body tense.

He didn't know what he was expecting. One of his men, one of Bane's thugs. A kid out after dark.

What he saw was the Batman, just a shadow, but Gordon would know him anywhere.

"You're here," he said quietly, suddenly relaxing completely. For just a moment everything seemed possible and it was all going to be okay.

"Sorry I'm late," came the dark chuckle and Gordon laughed, relief tinged with hysteria.

"Can you fix this?" he asked.

"I'm trying," Batman said quietly. "I'm not the man I used to be."

"None of us are," Gordon laughed darkly.

"Seems to me, a lots happened the last few months," Batman said, glancing out at the street as a tank rolled by. They both sunk a little deeper into the shadows as two armed men followed it, lights sweeping around.

"A lot," Gordon whispered quietly, eyes closing, taking just a moment to relax and enjoy the feeling of safety, of knowing that for thirty seconds he didn't have to watch his own back.

"You look tired," Batman commented and Gordon scoffed.

"You look like you've been through hell and back," he returned, eyes popping open.

Predictably, Batman frowned.

"You can't even see my face," he said at last and Gordon chuckled.

"You're holding yourself differently," was all he said, closing his eyes again, unbothered by the masked man watching him from less than three feet away.

"Hmm."

"You're good at math, right?" Gordon asked out of nowhere.

"Math?"

"What are the odds we survive this?" he clarified.

"Something less than 10%, I imagine," Batman snorted.

"Good odds," he said almost cheerfully and the Batman laughed again.

"I can't tell if you're truly that optimistic, if you put way too much faith in me, or if you've actually given up completely," he said finally.

"The last one, definitely the last one," Gordon sighed.

"Keep your eyes open, commissioner," Batman said after a few moments. "Watch for my signal."

By the time he opened his eyes, the shadow was gone.

  -:-:-

It was over. Well. Almost over. It wouldn't be over until he knew for sure.

He was standing over a grave, knowing the coffin was empty. Hoping that somewhere out there, Bruce Wayne, was living it up on an island somewhere. Knowing it probably wasn't true.

Six months passed, Gotham started to get back to normal, then one evening Jim came home to find his door unlocked and a man standing on his balcony, overlooking the city.

He was dressed casually, his hair longer, messy. He wasn't the same billionaire that Gotham had lost in the occupation.

"You could have called," was all Jim said, opening his fridge and pulling out a beer. A moment later he replaced it, taking a bottle of scotch off the top of the cabinet instead.

"What, and ruin the surprise?" Bruce chuckled.

"Does Alfred know you're alive?" Jim asked, downing one measure before pouring another and joining the other man outside.

"He does."

They were silent for a long time, just watching the city go by below them. Jim has moved into a high rise after the occupation, wanting to be well away from the streets he's spent so many months on. The view was an added bonus. Finally, Bruce was the one to break the silence.

"Back then, when you asked me what the odds were for surviving...why did you ask?"

Jim shrugged. "Just wanted to know if it was as bad as it seemed."

"Seemed like there was more on your mind than that," Bruce said softly and Jim glanced at him.

"My wife left me," he said after a long silence.

"I'm sorry," Bruce said quietly.

"I'm not," Jim responded with a rueful smile. "Means they weren't here when everything went south. Besides. We both knew it would probably happen someday."

"Doesn't mean it hurts any less," Bruce said quietly, leaning heavily on the railing.

Jim sighed, remembering Rachael. Thinking about Selena Kyle.

"Things not work out with your jewel thief?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.

"She's not past the thrill of the chase yet," Bruce chuckled. "She's very young."

"A man who didn't know you would say the same about you,"Jim said and Bruce smiled sadly.

"You think I'm too young for a midlife crisis?" he asked in mock seriousness.

"Oh you'll have to wait, I get my midlife crisis first," Jim laughed. Bruce grinned.

"Well, maybe we can share," he suggest.

"What do you-" But Jim never finished because Bruce's mouth had firmly covered his, warm and soft, with a tentativeness he would never have expected. 

When he blinked his eyes open after Bruce pulled back, the younger man was staring resolutely at the city skyline, his cheeks red. 

"Just how long have you been waiting to do that?" Jim asked finally, downing his second glass and setting it aside.

"Wanted to do it that night," Bruce said softly. Jim didn't need to ask what night he meant. 

"I'm not sure I'm good midlife crisis material," was what he said instead, causing Bruce to laugh loudly, turning to him with a genuine smile on his face.

"And I am?" he asked and Jim grinned.

"No, I suppose you're not," he conceded, tugging Bruce closer by the front of his jacket. "But I suppose that's what having a midlife crisis is all about."

Bruce just laughed, the first happy laugh Jim had ever heard from him, and for now that was enough to dispel any worry, concern, guilt, whatever emotion wanted to rear it's ugly head. In the dark of Gotham's night, it was enough.

**Author's Note:**

> Erm...I discovered this pairing less than 12 hours ago...I was watching the Batman Series again, never actually having seen Batman Begins, and somehow this popped out at me...Helllllllpppp.


End file.
